Married to Break (Pre-order)

Chapter One

Rei

One month agoI pushed up off the tile floor, rolling mushy bits of sticker between my fingers before tossing them in the trash. Rubbing my hands over my jumpsuit got most of the sticky residue off me.

Dozens of people in suits walked past during the shift change, but none of them looked at me, acknowledged me. It was like my light-blue jumpsuit and cleaning cart made me invisible. Not that I minded. I liked to fly under the radar.

There were only two people at MyHome who seemed to notice my presence.

My best friend, Jada, who worked in the daycare.

And the other?... I didn’t know his name.

I left my cart where it sat in the lobby and walked to the wall of sticky notes, the one where people shared their thoughts and ideas in honor of Bryce Madigan dreaming up the idea for MyHome and saving it on a sticky note.

I scanned the wall, reading all sorts of messages. Some were drawings, little more than scribbles. Others featured inspirational quotes. And then, where the sticky notes became sparse by the door to the janitorial supply room, I saw a note in the same handwriting as usual.

You look beautiful today, Rei.

My heart picked up its pace as I looked around, like I could see the person who left it. No one was nearby. No one was looking my way.

And yet, the same person had been leaving me notes for the last several weeks. Sometimes, they were encouraging, telling me I was doing a good job with the lobby. Other times, the notes were more flirtatious. Never did the notes include a name or number, even though I desperately wanted this person to show their face.

With a frustrated sigh, I got out my favorite pen from my pocket and wrote a response for the first time, right underneath their words so they’d know it was from me.

No more notes. If you want to talk to me, here’s my number. 555-9873Either it would scare away my secret admirer, or it would get them to do more than leave a note. Either way, I could stop feeling like everyone who gave me so much as a passing glance was potentially my secret admirer. It was enough to give a girl a complex.

My watch vibrated on my wrist, reminding me of my appointment tonight, so I pushed my cart back to the supply room. Cleaning supplies lined one wall, and a row of lockers covered the other. After restocking my cart and docking it toward the back of the room, I took my bag to the changing room and got dressed in more formal clothes, leaving my uniform hanging in my locker.

When I stepped out of the supply room dressed in black slacks, a light-blue chiffon blouse, and wedge heels, I felt like Cinderella going to a ball. No more was I the invisible woman cleaning floors with her hair pinned back. No, I fit right in with all the office workers in my designer clothes.

From the café in the middle of the lobby, Dom, the barista, let out a whistle. “Damn, mama, where are you going? And can I go with you?”

I rolled my eyes at the hopeful musician with tattoos covering his arms and neck. Counting off my fingers, I said, “No stage, no guitars, no mics... wouldn’t be a good fit.

”He smirked at me, brushing back his messy blond hair. “God, you know me so well. Marry me?”

I chuckled and tossed, “That’s not how you propose.

”His smirk made the light catch his eyebrow and nose piercings. “So you’re saying there’s a chance.”

I shook my head at him, repressing a smile, and went outside. A sleek black town car was waiting for me a couple blocks away from The Tower. Its engine purred, blending in with the sounds of downtown Dallas.

An older gentleman in a suit got out to open my door. “Good day at work?” he asked.

“It was great,” I replied with a smile. “Thanks, George.

”He nodded in response. Once I got in, he closed the door behind me and walked to the driver’s seat. Then he passed me a takeout container and a set of chopsticks. As I opened the flaps, my mouth watered at the smell of fried rice with beef and broccoli. I took a huge hunk of broccoli and stuffed it in my mouth, savoring the soy sauce flavor.

“Forget lunch again?” George asked with a knowing glance at me in the rearview mirror.

I mumbled my admission of guilt, making him shake his head. “You want me to drop off food for you at noon every day?” he offered.

“That would look suspicious,” I reminded him. “I’ll set a notification on my phone."

He looked unconvinced but turned to focus on driving through downtown traffic as dusk settled over the city.

Eventually, we arrived at an office park with row after row of red buildings accented with cream trim. George let me out of the car and took my container from me.

“Do I have anything in my teeth?” I asked him, flashing my pearly whites.

He pointed at a spot in his front teeth, used to the routine by now.

Maybe broccoli had been a bad idea before a meeting. When I thought it was gone, I bared my teeth again.

“Good,” he said with a friendly wink.

I dipped my head in thanks and started walking backward toward the front door. “Don’t know what I’d do without you,” I called.

“Me neither,” he muttered.

“Heard that!” I yelled before turning to walk forward the rest of the way.

I tugged open the door with Radiant Commercial Cleaning printed on the glass in big white letters. Inside, the young receptionist looked up from her phone with a bored expression. Not even a hello.

I frowned. “I have a five thirty with Conrad.”

“Remember where his office is?”

“I do.”

She looked back down at her phone, and I could see she was scrolling social media. I kept my thoughts to myself, instead walking back past doors labeled accounting, marketing, and procurement, until I reached the end of the hall.

The label stared back at me: Conrad Hale, CEO.

With a heavy feeling in my gut, I straightened my shoulders, smoothed my straight black hair, and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he called.

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was hanging out in the hallway and then pushed inside. As usual, everything was perfectly clean and in its place. No loose papers hung out on his desk or any personal effects for that matter. If I wiped a white glove over any surface here, it would surely come away pristine.

On the wall, he had diplomas from Upton University, showcasing undergraduate and master’s degrees in business administration.

Conrad sat behind his desk like he was made to be here. His appearance was just as perfect as the office—light-brown hair expertly gelled back, slacks and a button-down shirt without a wrinkle to be seen. I couldn’t see his shoes, but I knew they would be free of scuffs or scratches.

I sat down in a hard wooden chair across from him, putting my feet on his desk.

His eye twitched only a little. Sometimes it was fun to get him riled.

“You need to fire your assistant,” I told him, gazing at my short-cut fingernails. “Didn’t even offer to walk me back here. What if I was nosy and walked into accounting?” I looked up to see his response.

His lips were pursed. “I’ll discuss it with her.”

“Promptly,” I told him. “I don’t want my employees’ sensitive information at risk.”

“Yes, I will,” he said with a nod.

“Good,” I said. “Pass me the reports.

”He reached into his drawer and passed me a folder I knew would hold the company’s P&L, along with employee satisfaction scores and new customer acquisition logs.

While I reviewed the information, he worked quietly on his computer. Every so often, I had a question and he would answer it. I gave some suggestions for him to pass to marketing and told him that we needed to switch back to the gloves we used to use. The new brand was unpopular with the employees.

Finally, I asked him, “Any questions for me?”

He looked up at me, light-brown eyes holding... something. Hesitancy? Resolve? Some impossible mix of the two? He finally said, “I’m going to need a favor.”

My eyebrows arched. “A favor?”

“I have reason to suspect that Quentin Thomas is committing fraud.”

My stomach sank. Quentin was the one who signed the checks on our biggest contract. “MyHome’s CFO? Why would you think that?”

“He sent me the wrong check last month—it was for a company named Prodian Group.”

“And?” I asked, brows pinched. “An accounting error means he’s a fraud?” I shook my head at him.

His frown deepened for a moment before he cleared his expression. “Well, I was curious—”

“—Bored,” I translated.

“And I did a quick Google search to see what kind of business MyHome was doing with Prodian Group.”

“And?” I prompted again. Conrad loved a story—sometimes I wished he would just spit it out already.

He leaned in theatrically, even though it was just the two of us. “Prodian Group doesn’t exist,” he whispered. “No website, no phone number, not even an Instagram profile.”

I waved my hand at the idea like it was smoke I could waft away. “It’s a shell company. An accounting thing to skimp on taxes and avoid liability.” I gestured at his fancy, fake degrees. “You should know how they work.

”Color rose on his pale cheeks. “I know how it works. But when I told Quentin of the mistake, he was upset. The guy never breaks a sweat, but this had him all sorts of flustered. Suspicious. You might know business, but I know people. That’s why you hired me.”

I stared at him and drew my feet off his desk. “You need to get out of this office. Get some fresh air. Maybe a vacation would help.”

“Rei, I don’t need a vacation.” His features shifted into a softer expression. “Don’t you believe in intuition?“

"Yeah, but—”

“Something was off,” he insisted. “I felt it. And you told me that you never wanted to put your employees at risk again. Doesn’t that include the risk of losing their jobs if MyHome goes belly up because they’re under investigation?”

My stomach turned uncomfortably. “It does, but—”

“All I’m asking is that you keep an eye out for anything suspicious about MyHome, especially where Quentin’s concerned. If you don’t see anything, you can let me know you were right.”For a long moment, I studied Conrad. We’d worked together for the better part of five years, rebuilding my company from the ground up. I owed him the benefit of the doubt for all he’d done for me as acting CEO.

“What do you propose I do?”

“Do what you do best. Listen, observe. See what you can find. Because we may have no choice but to report MyHome if they’re committing fraud.”

I stood up, ready to leave, stomach churning with how upset I was. “They’re our biggest client,” I reminded him.

“Please?” he whispered as my hand touched the doorknob. “For me?”

“I will,” I murmured reluctantly. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to ask around about Prodian just to put Conrad’s mind at ease. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever this was, it wouldn’t end well.

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